With the King
by Darkened.Weakness
Summary: A fanfic written as if Arthur hadn't died and hadn't discovered Merlin's magic. What will he do when Merlin is dying and suddenly he finds strange things happening? Rated just to be safe.
1. Prologue

_**/AN: This fanfiction is written as if Arthur had survived and had not found out about Merlin's magic. It's a few years after the battle, and Arthur has ruled well with Gwen by his side. Also, it's just a bit of a drabble, a random idea that struck me, so there's that. Rate and review if you want more!**_

_**Also, I do not own Merlin or any of it's characters. But I wish I did. /**_

Arthur breathed a deep sigh of relief. Not much longer. Not much. Merlin would fix it. The boy that proved only clumsy on a day to day basis was a wonder in a crisis.

The king writhed as another wave of pain hit him. Merlin knelt next to him and began muttering. Arthur didn't know what, didn't care what. The pain was too deep now, it turned his thoughts into a single plea: stop it. Just stop it, anyway necessary, no matter what the price.

Arthur gasped a breath as the pain died down again, leaving him panting and tense. Merlin opened his eyes and looked at Arthur, but there was something not right about the way he looked at his king. And Arthur saw the tears forming just before they dripped down the boy's cheeks and onto the king's face.

"Ah." Arthur's voice was quiet, hoarse. "So there's no fixing it, then?"

"I just need to find Gaius, I just have to-"

"Don't be a fool, Merlin. I don't need your false hope, I just need-" Arthur's words were cut off by another wave. They were getting closer together now, harder to fight off and so much more intense. After several minutes it died down again, and Arthur wiped the sweat off of his forehead with his arm, giving Merlin a smile. "Tell Gwen I love her?"

"No."

"Merlin-"

"No, because you can tell her yourself."

Arthur didn't have time to protest before Merlin started muttering again, but this time it was different. The king didn't have enough time to pinpoint how different before the pain hit him again. And by then it was too late, anyhow.

Suddenly, Arthur felt a pulling sensation, deep in his gut, and slowly the pain seemed to fade, as if it was physically being taken from him. His eyes snapped open and he stared at Merlin, at the boy's face, which was creased with the same pain that Arthur had been feeling only moments ago. And suddenly, Arthur understood everything; how Merlin had saved him so many times, why the dolt had always seemed so thick. It'd been to protect himself. It'd been because the boy possessed magic, and Arthur had only realized when it was being used to save the king's life in exchange for the servants.

"No. No Merlin, stop it. _Stop._" Arthur demanded, struggling to sit, but Merlin pushed him to the ground again. "Merlin! I order you to _let me die_." But the sorcerer would have none of it, and soon all the pain had completely disappeared. Merlin grinned weakly at Arthur.

"I can't, you prat." He muttered, before falling over backwards, his eyes screwed shut and his brow creased. Arthur stumbled to his knees and pulled Merlin into his arms, shaking his head.

"No no no no no." He whispered, running a hand over Merlin's already slick forehead. "You can't. _You can't_. I ordered you to let me die, you little serving boy, now give it back. _Give it back_."

"'cause you're the king?"

"Yes, Merlin, because I'm the king."

"Well, that's why I'm doing it, isn't it?" Merlin chuckled softly. Suddenly, his face grew more serious and he stared at his king. "You'll be great, Arthur." Merlin tensed and closed his eyes, squeezing them shut against the pain. Arthur held him closer, tears beginning to drip down his cheeks.

"I'll probably die five times a day without you, I can't be great."

Merlin didn't answer; he couldn't. His body was too focused on the pain, on searching for a way to stop it. But as far as Arthur knew, there was only one way to stop it. A way that he refused to let Merlin take.

But when did Merlin ever listen, really?

"Don't die. Don't die, Merlin." It was all he could do for the boy now. He knew that, probably better than anyone. Merlin was the one that made the miraculous saves. Arthur just basked in the glory afterwards. He'd never realized how completely he stole the credit from Merlin, not until he'd realized just how much Merlin had done, had always done.

Merlin smiled at Arthur, his eyes only half open. "Is that an order?"

"Yes."

Merlin chuckled quietly. "I'm not good at taking orders."

"Try this once. Just… try."

Merlin shook his head. Without a word, he lifted his hand and gently touched Arthur's face, his fingers brushing across the stubbly cheek and leaving a tingling sensation behind.

"Merlin-" Suddenly Arthur felt dizzy. It worsened rapidly until he could hardly see in front of his face and then… he watched Merlin's hand fall before he lost consciousness.


	2. Chapter 1

"Merlin!" Arthur woke with a yell as he panted, remembering vivid dreams of Merlin dying, the light in his eyes slowly fading. There had been so much blood in the dream, but none of it had been his friend's. It had been terribly dark, and Arthur only remembered seeing Merlin, his body slackening as the life left him. "Merlin!"

"Arthur, settle down." Gwen's voice took a few seconds to soothe the frantic king. He stared at her before sitting slowly, his fingers resting lightly on his temple. His head was pounding, but there were things more important than his head.

"Where's Merlin?" He demanded. Gwen took a step back as Arthur swung his legs over the side of the bed – _his _bed, he realized – and rose to his feet. He stumbled and fell against the bed frame, but when Gwen moved to help he shook his head. "I'm fine. Where's Merlin?"

The sadness in her eyes was answer enough. Arthur stumbled to the door and refused to listen to her begging that he lay down and rest. He had to see Merlin. He had to know… He had to know.

He was proud that he only stumbled a few times on his way to Gaius's chambers, and prouder still that those stumbles were only when he was alone. The guards and various members of the castle bustled through the hallways, always careful to stop and offer a small bow or curtsy to the king before running off again. Arthur didn't see any of them.

The king slammed the door open and nearly fell into the room, barely catching himself on the door frame. Gaius looked up, but his attention was taken for only a moment before he returned to Merlin. Arthur's eyes followed to the small bed that Merlin slept on, his face pale and deep shadows beneath his eyes. Every once in a while he would frown, his forehead wrinkling, a fist clenching.

"He's not…" Arthur trailed off, taking two steps into the room and stopping again.

"Not yet." Gaius answered quietly. "But I fear he doesn't have much longer."

"But you can do something, Gaius. You always do something."

"I'm not sure-"

"You can always do something!" Arthur's voice was a yell, but his face was quiet pain. Gaius saw the fear deep in the king's eyes, which made his response calm.

"I'll see what I can do, Arthur." Gaius gently touched Arthur's arm before leaving the room, closing the door behind him and asking the guards to make sure both boys were safe.

Arthur looked back at his servant, slowly walking toward the boy. Not servant, though, and not boy. He was a warlock. He was the very thing that had been fought against for so many years, the number one enemy of Camelot. But still a friend and ally. Arthur's mind was swimming even as he felt his heart break.

"Merlin, you clot pole." He said quietly as he pulled a chair up next to the boy. "Why do you always have to look out for me? I'm a grown man, I can look after myself… of course, obviously you would disagree, seeing as you're the one lying in bed. But it's just a rest, right? In a few days' time you'll be up and annoying again, being the worst servant I have ever encountered. Honestly, I'm not sure how you manage it. I could be a better servant than you are. I'm the king, and I'd be a better servant. But you're not just a servant, are you? You never have been. You're as much a warrior as I am, you just don't ask for the credit. You save our lives over and over again and you never ask for a share of the glory. You just let me insult you.

"I wish you would have told me." Arthur looked at his hands, as if he was afraid Merlin would see his emotion. "I know that with my father, hiding it was a must. And… well, I guess I never gave you real reason to think I was different, but I trust you. I know you wouldn't try to ruin the kingdom, you never have, and I thought you trusted me to accept you… Maybe I shouldn't have trusted you. You've been a different person the entire time I've known you, you were never who I thought you were. Damn it Merlin, you've been so much greater, so much better than I had ever believed. And I only know now because you're dying. What does that say about me? I'm the king that didn't know his best friend was a warlock! How… how did you do that?" Arthur had been on the verge of losing his temper, but suddenly he calmed and felt only wonder. This boy… this boy. This man.

"Just don't die, alright? Servants are hard to replace anymore." Arthur looked at Merlin once more before leaning back in his chair. He was deathly tired; apparently almost dying had drained him. He didn't realize the awful irony of his thoughts as he closed his eyes.

"Arthur." The king practically jumped out of his skin in surprise as he heard his name. He turned to look at the culprit: Galahad leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed and his face serious. It was always serious, of course; the new knight found very little amusing in the world, but he was always helpful in stressful situations or in the middle of battle.

"Yes, Galahad. Arthur pushed all of the grief and surprise out of his voice, making his words seem bland and uninterested.

"How's Merlin?" The knight walked slowly into the room, irritatingly silent. He was like a cat, in many ways, which was both helpful and irritating, attractive and unbearable. But just then Arthur was glad that he displayed interest in the fallen servant. Warlock.

"He'll be fine." Arthur said quietly, returning to his seat.

"What does Gaius say?"

"Gaius doesn't know the dollophead like I do." Arthur was staring at the boy, hoping that he could will away the shadows that fell under his eyes, a sickness that Arthur could do nothing to prevent.

"Your highness, there's a war council that requires your presence." Galahad said after a moment.

Arthur's frown said he had expected as much. "Can it wait?"

"Not until the boy wakes."

"I figured." Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'll be there in a moment." The king had expected the knight to leave, but he should have known better; Galahad had been sent to fetch the ruler of Camelot, and would not leave until Arthur did.

Arthur put a hand on Merlin's shoulder for a second before standing. He straightened his shirt, wiped a sleeve across his face, and took a deep breath, nodding to Galahad and following him to the throne room, where the meeting would be held. He glanced back once to look at Merlin, but the servant boy hadn't moved an inch.

* * *

"They attacked our _king_." One of the knights snarled, his face a mask of rage. Arthur sighed and ran a hand across his face as immediately knights stood, yelling at each other for one course of action of another. There were quite a few that wanted to march over to the enemy and completely wipe them out; no mercy, only justice for the deaths they had suffered. Others wanted to forget it had happened; after all, they'd received an apology from the king, claiming that it had been a rebellious sect that had been imprisoned and was receiving punishment. Arthur knew the king to be a peaceful man, and they'd been friends once upon a time. Most just wanted to be prepared for an attack, but not strike first.

However, the loudest voices called for blood.

"Your highness, how is Merlin?" The question didn't seem polite or genuine; in fact, Arthur recognized it immediately as a ploy to rile the king, force him into action. Arthur just looked at Sir Arcturo and shook his head.

"Don't you even say his name." Silence fell around the table at Arthur's words, suddenly angry with a touch of pain. "I don't want any of you to so much as say his name, let alone attempt to use him as an argument." With that, Arthur stood, knocking his chair over with a loud clatter. "You may prepare the army, if that's what you want. But I will not have you marching off to start war. There's no point justifying death with death."

Arthur stormed out of the room, leaving the knights and advisers upset and possibly a little fearful for the king's anger.


	3. Chapter 2

_They were surrounded. Arthur's sword shook in tired hands as he surveyed the battlefield, but their chances of escaping alive were slim to none. To his right, Percival had obviously reached the same conclusion. He took a deep breath and stood a little taller, compensating for the lack of hope. Arthur looked at Percival, looked at the men around him. These all would risk their lives for him. He knew that, probably better than anyone. Here, in the middle of nowhere, they would all die. Or maybe just one of them would die._

_Arthur knew the King of Camelot would be the real prize to these men, these knights of a kingdom Arthur couldn't even pronounce, let alone understand. So with great effort, he let his sword fall from his hand. Percival was about to leap in front of him, but Arthur shook his head._

"_Make sure everyone leaves here alive." He said quietly, so Percival and the few knights right next to him could hear, but no one else. The big man knew immediately what Arthur planned to do, but he also knew the reality of their situation. They all died, or Arthur died. If the king was ordering Percival to save everyone else, that's what he'd do. Both the king and the knight knew this, despite the protestation from the others nearest them._

"_Let my men go." Arthur spoke louder, so his enemies could hear. _

"_There's no way, why would we-"_

"_Because you can take me, no fight. If they're allowed to go, I won't attempt to escape."_

_He ignored the jeers from the enemy force. He ignored the pleas from his own. He ignored the whispered words between the apparent leaders of the enemy force. He ignored the look from Percival. All he thought about was Merlin. That idiot had gone off on his own, to do who knows what, and Arthur didn't know if he was alive or dead. But judging from the way his knights had fared during their encounter, the king doubted his serving boy had done very well. _

"_We accept your offer." The words made Arthur both relax and tense. He was proud to be saving his men, but he knew the days to come would not be at all pleasant for the once king. They wouldn't accept a light punishment like imprisonment, certainly. They'd fought too hard for their reward._

_Arthur nodded. Percival immediately set to wrangling all of their men and forcing them back to Camelot. A few were unwilling, but Percival was one of the best knights Arthur knew. Soon all of the men, whether conscious or not, were retreating._

_Shortly after, Arthur was pushed to his knees, his hands secured behind his back and both his sword and dagger taken from his belt. A swift blow to the head and he'd been knocked unconscious, easily hauled away._

_Arthur spent a week in the cell that smelled of death and rotting food, with only his tunic and breeches for warmth. The stone walls were always slick and seemed to radiate the cold. Arthur was of the impression that he wasn't meant to die, at least initially, but after a few days of no visitors, very little food shoved through a door in the wall, and the fierce cold, he had begun to doubt he would last long. After the fourth day, he knew he was suffering from illness. After that, time seemed to run together while he lay in a corner, huddled and shivering. _

_On the eighth day of his imprisonment, when Arthur wondered if even death had abandoned him, the door creaked open and a hooded figure stepped inside, closing the door behind him again. Arthur's head rose, but he wasn't certain he could do much more. It didn't seem to matter; a few words of a language that Arthur recognized as magic and pain washed through the once king. He cried out even though it shamed him, but his tormentor didn't seem to mind. Without another glance at the prisoner the hooded man exited, locking the door again behind him. _

_Arthur choked as he gasped in air, wondering what that pain had been and why the sudden interest. It took him a moment to realize that it seemed his sickness was gone… he didn't even feel cold anymore. Could that man have been his savior?_

_Arthur stood slowly, one hand on the wall. When it seemed that his body was in working condition, he felt a small grin on his face. Finally, a bit of luck. He felt his way to the door and knocked on it lightly, wondering if he'd receive a response. When nothing happened, he started pacing. There had to be a catch. There was always a catch._

_Suddenly pain broke out, seeming to stem from his head and expanding into the rest of his body. He was blind to everything else that was happening, and he only noticed that he'd collapsed when the pain had subsided yet again. He took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself before checking for injuries: a scraped palm, a bloody knee, a few bruises, but nothing serious. _

_It was another pain attack before the door opened, and Arthur cringed away, waiting for something worse. He heard a few footsteps as whoever it was entered the room, but then a yell and footsteps retreating. Arthur had just enough time to glance up and see the open doorway before another wave of pain hit him, making his body shake with the force. He moaned quietly as the pain went up and down his spine and again dissipated into nothing, but now the prisoner felt the emptiness it left behind like an ache. _

_His head shot up as he heard a familiar voice echoing down the halls, and a few seconds later he recognized the word that was being spoken. _

"_Arthur!" Merlin's voice wasn't panicked, but searching, hopeful and fearful at the same time. The prisoner stood, remembering that he was still king of Camelot, and attempted to put on a dignified attitude. When Merlin found him, he'd wanted to say something witty about it taking so long, or about the state of Merlin's clothes, or suggest that Merlin try the accommodations. Instead, he crumpled with pain just as his friend rounded the corner, only barely avoiding a knock to the head as he hit the ground. He heard the footsteps quickening and he was glad. Not much longer. Not much. Merlin would fix it. The boy that proved only clumsy on a day to day basis was a wonder in a crisis._

Arthur gasped as he woke, throwing the blankets off of himself immediately and moving to stand. Instead his knees gave out and he landed hard on the floor, no doubt bruising his knees in the process. The dream had seemed so real… It was exactly the same as when it had happened, every time. A replay of his life, moments he was proud of and moments he was ashamed of.

He collected the sweat from his face with his arm before taking a shaky breath. Percival had informed the king that both men were found in the cell, unconscious. Merlin had obviously been in pain, and Arthur had seemed worn down and tired. They'd been put on horses with some of the knights and rushed back to the castle, where Gaius had checked them both and declared the king perfectly sound.

Except Gaius didn't know how haunted Arthur was by the memory. To most, it would seem silly to be so torn up about the small journey, especially considering what the king had gone through previously. But this, for some reason, stuck with him like a bad cold, and he couldn't shake the fear that was connected with the memories. Part of it was the pain, of course; he would never forget the feeling, as if his body was destroying itself, each individual cell bursting and burning. But there was something else that bothered him, something he couldn't put his finger on. Probably it was just his imagination, or the feeling of being completely alone…

Arthur shook his head and laid backward, his head resting just under the edge of his bed. Then, with a solid amount of effort, he forced himself to his feet and put on clothes. He checked to make sure Gwen was still asleep after all of his noise, and then left the room with hardly a noise, It wasn't decent, not for a king to be wandering around in only his trousers, but it was the middle of the night, and the only thing he cared about was going to find Merlin. Besides, it was his castle, he'd do as he pleased.

Gaius had taken to sleeping on the floor next to Merlin, but when Arthur walked in he was sleeping in a chair next to the table, a bowl of hardly touched soup cold in front of him. He'd been awake constantly, doing everything in his power to keep the boy alive, but Arthur had been told that they could do nothing at this point. Either Merlin would fight off the curse on his own, or it would be the end of him. Arthur refused to believe the latter, preferring instead to ignore the darker side of the situation. Merlin couldn't leave him, not after so many years of alternately saving the king's life and almost getting himself killed. Actually, more often than not they were the same thing, just like now…

Arthur's footsteps were quiet as he made his way to Merlin's side, on a small cot by the fire, and Gaius' quiet snores continued as the king sat on the floor, putting his head on his knees when he saw that Merlin was fighting off another attack. He handled it so much better than the king had, his face screwed up but no noise escaping him. The blonde half wondered if it was a subconscious desire to remain unnoticed. After all, the boy had been working hard the past years to hide himself, even if he had still always drawn attention. No one had ever seen the truth behind those innocent blue eyes and laughing smile.

With a quiet sigh, Arthur looked up at his friend, feeling a pang deep in his gut for the boy. Why was he always out to save the king's life? What was so important about Arthur Pendragon? It wasn't any feat of his that he had become the king after his father's death, and yet there were those who would lay their lives down for him without a second thought. He wasn't worth it. Why was he the only one who knew that?

"Merlin, wake up, would you? Arthur muttered, but there was no response. He'd known there wouldn't be.

Arthur sat up, moving to touch the serving boy, but the instant his skin touched Merlin's he felt a shock run through him, settling somewhere deep in his gut. A warmth spread through him, and terror arose. Had he taken the curse from Merlin? Despite his doubt of his own worth, he realized he was still terrified to feel the pain that Merlin was currently experiencing. He was a coward. But after a few tense minutes he realized that Merlin was still the one in pain, and the king was still perfectly healthy. The sigh of relief felt guilty as soon as it happened.

Hesitantly, Arthur touched Merlin's hand again, feeling the same spark and warmth, but this time he held onto the boy. Suddenly, his eyes flew open. They traveled blindly for a few moments before finding Arthur's.

"Arthur." He breathed. Arthur grinned and was about to call for Gaius when he felt a deep pain, dull and nagging. As Merlin began to sit up Arthur felt his head spin, and suddenly he fell backwards on the floor, darkness rushing in front of his eyes until he was unaware of everything in the room.

_**/Hey all! I hope your enjoying my little fic so far! It would be incredibly helpful if you all would rate/review for me! Let me know how it's going! I hope to have the next chapter up soon. In the meantime, thanks for reading! You all are wonderfully awesome!/**_


	4. Chapter 3

Arthur woke still lying on the floor, still in darkness. He blinked several times and sat up hesitantly. When he realized that he was still in one piece, he looked at Merlin. He was asleep, although he seemed a bit more peaceful than he had before. But he'd been awake! … Hadn't he?

Arthur began to doubt that his friend had ever been awake at all, that he had only seen what he'd wanted to see. Merlin getting better was the one thing he was sure needed to change, even if he didn't want to make decisions on anything else. With a deep sigh, he lay back down and stared at the ceiling. The sun was starting to come up; Arthur could see the faint lines of light coming through the cracks of the shades, highlighting the dust and grime that was nigh impossible to clean. He had no doubt that Merlin had been forced to stand on the small table multiple times in an attempt, judging by the smudging on the rafters, but it had obviously been in vain.

Arthur didn't want to think about the boy climbing to the rafters, because those thoughts let him down a darker path that he didn't want to tread.

"Arthur?" Arthur jumped slightly at Gaius' voice, half asleep and confused. He stood quickly, stumbling slightly but catching himself on the table.

"Gaius. How are you?"

"I'm fine. It's hardly me I'm worried about."

"Merlin." Arthur's shoulders slumped, his eyes shifting to the sleeping boy's face. At least he didn't seem to be in pain… at the moment. There was no doubt that he would be suffering again, soon. And Arthur knew exactly what it felt like.

"And you."

Arthur's eyes shot back to Gaius. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Physically, yes."

"Nothing else matters." Arthur's voice was a little harder than he'd meant. Not that anyone blamed him. There was a time when Merlin was a simple servant with very little to offer, but after years of hard work, both saving the King and cleaning up after him, no one would ever think little of the serving boy. No one dared.

"Sire, please, at least lie down. You've been very stressed these past few days, your body needs time to recuperate."

While a small part of Arthur's brain understood and accepted Gaius' words, it wasn't enough to keep the anger from swelling up inside him.

"No thank you." The king's teeth were gritted as he all but snarled the three words.

"Please-"

"No!" Arthur's eyes flashed golden just before Gaius flew backwards, slamming into the wall and knocking a shelf filled with clay jars to the floor. Arthur stumbled forwards in an automatic attempt to help, but after a few steps dull pain flashed through his body and he fell to his knees, a hand darting to his temple. His vision went white for a moment before the pain faded. Someone grasped his arm and pulled him to his feet, and a quick glance showed Sir Galahad, his face as stoic as ever as he helped his king stand.

"Are you alright, sire?"

"Yes, fine." Arthur tried to keep his voice from shaking, and succeeded, for the most part. Galahad was kind enough not to comment. "Gaius? Are you hurt?"

Another knight helped Gaius up, grasping the old man's elbow as he wobbled slightly. "I'm not as frail as I appear, fortunately."

"You're sure?"

"Quite sure, sire. But I believe you have duties to attend to? I'll call you if there's a change with Merlin." Arthur was awed by the old man's ability to hide the shock that he was certainly feeling. After all, Arthur had just… no. It had to have been Merlin. Merlin was awake? He glanced quickly at the boy, who was still sleeping, a small frown on his face. No. Not Merlin. Some freak accident maybe.

"Yes… Yes, please do." Arthur nodded once before striding out of the room, standing tall and putting on his "king face," as Gwen called it. Just push aside whatever was bothering him and act as if everything is fine. He hated doing it, because he hated lying, but there was little else he could do at the moment. He would speak to Gaius about it later. For now, he needed to run the kingdom.

Galahad wasn't far behind him, but was obviously wary of the king's mood. Arthur realized he radiated a faint sense of dread and fear, only obvious to those who knew him well and Galahad. The knight that was almost more observant than the king liked.

"The squires of the kingdom are in the courtyard, awaiting the demonstration you promised. Whenever you're ready, they'd be happy to have you."

"You're much nicer than Merlin, aren't you? He usually just makes snide little comments and ignores my schedule altogether."

"Not all of us can get away with the same, your majesty."

Arthur chuckled quietly. "That's true. Don't you have other duties to attend to?"

"My schedule's been cleared so I can attend to you until Merlin is able."

"Wouldn't a servant be a better choice?"

"I offered to take the responsibility."

"Joy." Arthur muttered, low enough that Galahad wasn't able to catch his words. The knight was also too well-mannered to ask.

Galahad led the way to the courtyard, and Arthur didn't protest. They walked in silence, in fact, because there was very little to talk about with the stern knight. He rarely discussed his personal life, and the comments on the king's conversation was very formal and stiff. The king had soon learned that there was little point in attempting small talk with the man, and had lost interest in trying.

Arthur chose to swing by his rooms to put on more appropriate clothing and some old practice armor, dented but shining in the morning light. Merlin had apparently done his job at some point, although Arthur couldn't figure out when the boy had found the time. Once he was completely dressed, after some awkward assistance from Galahad, they made their way to see the squires.

The courtyard held more than just the squires, Arthur was displeased to note. Apparently word had gotten out that he'd offhandedly accepted the training master's request for a demonstration, and members of the court, knights, and a variety of the kingdom's citizens crowded around the space. It wasn't that he was nervous… who was he kidding, he was nervous. It'd been a little while since he'd worked with his sword. He scolded himself every day he went to bed without taking it from its sheath, but the paperwork kept him busy. Of course, deep inside he knew that it was because he didn't want to be beat again, and if he didn't fight, he couldn't lose. If he didn't fight, he wouldn't go through that again.

Arthur cleared his mind and boldly walked into the courtyard, his head held high and one hand on the pommel of his sword.

"Your highness." Sir Lucan, the knight that had claimed the right to oversee the masses of pages and squires, bowed to the king before smiling. "Glad you could come." The man had long, wavy brown hair that fell against his broad shoulders, a few strands getting stuck in his stubble. His eyes were big and innocent, a deep blue that begged for attention. There were lines around the corners of his eyes and his mouth, left there from too much laughter. He was slim, a trait that had often gained him ridicule from the other knights, but he was quick and deadly. He had soon earned his place among the other knights of the round table. Sometimes he was a little too ready to jump into a fight, but he usually reigned himself in when Arthur commanded it. Most of the time.

"It's an honor, Sir Lucan." Arthur nodded his head and glanced again around the courtyard. "So, who's ready to try their luck?" He gave a group of squires a cocky grin before returning his attention to Lucan.

"Actually, I thought I might give it a go. Give them a real show." The man could hardly keep the excitement from his face. "After all, I'm not sure it would be fair to pit one of the boys against a seasoned warrior."

"Watch who you're calling seasoned, Lucan." Arthur smiled, but his hand shook slightly. Fighting a squire was doable. Fighting a knight was not. It would have to be, of course, unless Arthur wanted to look weak and unfit to rule in front of so many members of his kingdom.

"I meant no offense, your highness." The way Lucan said 'your highness' didn't seem all that respectful, but Arthur knew it was just how the knight operated. He never intentionally offended anyone, but any jokes or sarcasm also went right over his head.

"None taken."

"Shall we?" Lucan drew his sword and held it between loose fingers. Arthur nodded once, not trusting himself to speak. His nightmares churned behind his eyes as he drew his own sword. He could feel the way he'd shook from exhaustion, the way he'd let the sword slip from his fingers before…

With a squeeze, he adjusted his grip on the sword and raised it slightly. Lucan took that as a sign and raised his own blade, swinging it slightly as he lazily started circling. Arthur responded in kind, and after a few more steps Lucan threw a lazy swing of his sword toward Arthur, who deflected and countered the strike easily. A few more lazy attacks started the really intense duel, and Arthur lost the lazy grin that he'd been using to hide his fear. Soon his face was the picture of concentration as he dueled the skilled Sir Lucan, back and forth, each gaining an advantage and then losing it just as quickly. Arthur had always prided himself on being the best swordsman in the kingdom, but he'd always had a feeling that Lucan, if tested, could prove himself better. The king had just hoped it wouldn't be in front of crowds of people.

"A little out of practice, your highness?"

Arthur didn't answer the jab from the knight, which was the first sign that he wasn't his usual self. The second sign was the sloppy jab Arthur attempted when Lucan was clearly prepared. His sword flew from his fingers as Lucan disarmed the king. And the third was the way he cowered from the knight, his expression speaking of terror and little else. His breathing was quick and shallow, his eyes flicking between the blade and Lucan's face. When the knight moved to sheath his blade, the king stumbled backward and tripped, landing solidly on his backside but only flinching because Lucan stepped closer to him.

"Your highness?"

Arthur attempted to take deep breaths, to calm himself down, but he couldn't get past the lump in his throat, the fear in his chest.

"Arthur?" Lucan dropped his sword on the ground before kneeling in front of the king, real concern in his voice. When Arthur didn't answer, Lucan gestured for Galahad to help him, and together they pulled the king to his feet and hurried to get him away from the crowds.

Gwen met them when they reached his bedroom, and the flurry of concerned questions she launched were mostly ignored by the two knights, too intent on the king's health to worry about his frantic wife.

"Gwen, get Gaius." Galahad demanded, and Gwen, after a surprised gasp, ran from the room to find the old healer.

"Arthur?"

The king blinked a few times but otherwise didn't respond. Fear seemed to be etched on his face, in the clench of his hands. The two knights quickly stripped the king of his armor and laid him on the bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin. In no time Arthur had twisted and turned enough that he wasn't covered, but the knights weren't sure if they should try again or not. They were both relieved when Gaius hurried into the room, his medical pouch thrown over a shoulder. They backed up to give the man room, but after checking his vitals, Gaius backed up and shook his head.

"What is it?" Gwen asked, her voice barely containing the fear in her own voice.

"There is little I can do to help him now; his ailment comes from his own mind. It's up to him if he wakes or not."

"What do you mean?"

"It's my guess that he suffered worse than physical injuries while imprisoned, and now his mind has caught up with him. He will either get better or he will not. The best we can do is keep him comfortable until he wakes to the real world." Gaius reached into his pouch and took out a small vile of liquid. "For now, give him this. It will help him to sleep, and hopefully the rest will bring him some peace."

Gwen took the offered bottle and nodded. "Thank you Gaius."

"Come find me if something happens. I'm afraid Merlin requires my attention."

"Is he…?"

"He's slowly declined. It's just a matter of waiting for the end, I'm afraid." Suddenly Gaius' voice was heavy, full of pain and dread.

"Merlin." Arthur's voice was barely a murmur, but everyone turned to him. Shoulders slumped as they all realized he was still oblivious to the world around him. "Merlin."

"Arthur." Merlin muttered, somehow hearing Arthur's call through the stone walls and wooden doors of the castle. "I'm sorry."

**AN: Sorry for the wait you guys! Hope you enjoy (well, not enjoy persay, but appreciate maybe) this chapter. I hope to have a new one up soon! Please review? =)**


	5. Chapter 4

"Merlin!" Arthur woke with a yell, sweat pouring down his face and his body shaking. He gasped several breaths before Gwen was next to him, dabbing at the sweat on his face and whispering calming, relieved words. It took Arthur a few moments to recognize her as his wife before he settled down.

"Where's Merlin?" The nightmare had faded from his mind entirely once he'd woken, but it only took him moments to remember that his friend had been dying before… well, the king didn't really want to think about what had happened. He just wanted to know if Merlin was on his feet yet.

"He's with Gaius, Arthur, he's… he's fine." Arthur noticed the catch in her voice and immediately pushed himself up.

"Don't lie to me Gwen."

"He really is fine, just worry about yourself for a minute. How are you feeling? Are you still… are you better?"

"I will be once you stop trying to protect me. I'm going to see Merlin." Arthur gently pushed Gwen away from him and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. He stood a little too quickly and felt a wave of dizziness wash over him, but in moments it was gone and he was putting on a new shirt.

"Arthur, really, you've just woken up after a full day of illness, just let yourself rest."

"One day is plenty. If you're coming, I suggest you do." With those words Arthur turned and left the room, his pace quick and his heartbeat quicker. From the way she had been acting, Arthur assumed that Gwen was just as scared for Merlin as he was. Maybe not as scared. But plenty worried, and that could only mean that he wasn't doing any better.

Gaius wasn't in his chambers when the king arrived, which was both a relief and a burden. He'd wanted to ask how the boy had fared while Arthur had been… otherwise occupied, but he also wanted a moment alone with the boy. Just in case it was worse than he was prepared for.

Merlin still slept on the small cot by the fire, but he seemed paler than before. The sweat dripping from his cheekbones only served to accentuate how gaunt and thin he had become. Arthur knelt next to the boy and picked up the dirty cloth next to the bed, dabbing at the sweat on his brow.

"Merlin, can you hear me?"

Merlin frowned in his sleep, but otherwise didn't react. Arthur sighed. The king grabbed the servants hand and squeezed it, feeling the bones in his slim fingers. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths to calm himself, willing away the tears that threatened. At this rate, Merlin would starve to death, if the magical illness didn't claim him first. It was hard to tell which would win out.

"Arthur." Merlin's voice was barely a whisper, but Arthur had been hoping to hear something, anything, and so it seemed louder and stronger.

"Merlin, you're awake!"

The raven haired boy smiled weakly. "No, not really."

"Don't make jokes, Merlin, you're not very good at it."

"I'm aware I'm not the court jester. I couldn't keep up with you, after all."

"Stop being an idiot. How are you feeling?"

Merlin didn't answer for a moment, and Arthur was disappointed that the boy had fallen asleep again. But then the quiet voice answered, "Not well."

"But you're getting better, Merlin. You'll be fine."

"No."

All of the air in Arthur's lungs seemed to dissipate into nothing. He stared at the boy, his best friend, and shook his head. "You'll be fine. I've saved your sorry hide loads of times, I can do it again. Just tell me what to do."

"There's no magic flower this time."

"Then a potion with rare ingredients, or a trip to a witch, or my right arm. For crying out loud, there has to be something I can do!"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"What do you mean no? There's always something!"

"No." And Arthur heard the finality in the boy's voice, the acceptance. In that moment, he knew that Merlin wouldn't pull through, not this time. And he hated how easy it was for the serving boy to accept the fact, but the king of Camelot was unable.

"Merlin, I can't run this kingdom without you, you know that better than anyone."

"You'll be fine, Arthur."

"I won't."

"Stop being a brat." Merlin's eyelids fluttered open for the first time, and Arthur saw how dim and dull the once brilliant blue eyes had become. There was no fight in them. The ghost of a grin was almost faded now.

"I don't know how." The one sentence was full of pain and sorrow, and Arthur could feel the tears beginning to fall freely down his face. He didn't know how. Merlin was the one that set him straight when he started showing signs of his spoiled childhood. Merlin was the one that indirectly directed him toward the wise decisions. Merlin was the one that accepted the abuse that someone needed to take, because Arthur couldn't always be perfect. Merlin was the one that questioned his judgment when no one else dared. Merlin was the one that made him whole.

"Don't leave me."

"It had to happen sometime."

"If it had to happen, it was supposed to happen when we were old and wise, when there was nothing else we could teach each other."

"Come here."

"I can't just let- what?"

"Come here." Merlin's voice was getting raspier with every word, and Arthur regretted making him speak at all. There was obviously pain in his voice, but he was too focused on his own misery.

Arthur slid closer and leaned in, allowing Merlin to whisper in his ear.

"I have magic."

"I know."

"But it won't die with me."

Arthur backed up slightly to stare at the boy. "What do you mean? Did you stash some away somewhere? Did you curse someone?"

Merlin smiled guiltily, a shadow of his former abashed self. "Yes."

"What do you mean?"

"I…" Merlin stopped as his eyes squeezed shut in an expression that Arthur was all too familiar with. He quickly stood, wetting the rag in a bowl of water setting on the makeshift table of potions. He fell to his knees and started dabbing at Merlin's pained face, hoping to relieve a little of the discomfort.

It was too long before Merlin finally seemed to relax, his body slackening and his breathing gaining some depth, although he still seemed to struggle for the air.

"Merlin?"

Merlin didn't answer, just reached toward Arthur. His fingers, clammy and too warm, rested on Arthur's cheek. The boy closed his eyes and muttered a few words in a strange language. Arthur realized that Merlin was attempting to use magic and moved to back away, but for some reason he couldn't. His body was frozen in place, and he felt as if heat was coursing through him. The king's body began to tremble. But his mind wasn't on himself anymore. The longer they sat there, the worse Merlin began to look. His cheeks seemed hollower, his eyes dimmer. The shadows under his eyes grew darker while his skin grew paler. Merlin smiled at the king, who tried to tell the boy no with his eyes.

"It will be hard, but you'll need it. It will protect you when I… when I can't." The first traces of doubt crossed Merlin's face at the words.

"I don't want to die." Merlin said quietly, but his voice firmed when he continued, "But there's nothing for it.

"You were always the king that Camelot needed, and you will be for years to come. Don't forget."

And suddenly Merlin's arm fell, his eyes closed, and his chest stopped the haphazard rise and fall that it had been attempting. Arthur slumped as the power seemed to stop. His hands immediately moved to check the boy's pulse, but as he expected, it was completely still, and his skin was suddenly painfully cold. Arthur fell backwards as the pain of loss filled him.

The floor didn't feel as cold as Merlin's skin had, and it certainly wasn't the reason that shivers were wracking his body, nor was the salty wetness of his face. The small, panting gasps were the result of the emptiness inside of him, the sheer blackness that seemed to engulf his heart and move outward until he wasn't sure he even existed.

Slowly, he lifted his head up to the ceiling, staring at the bare stone that rested over his head. He felt it burning in his lungs and bubbling up in his throat before it burst from his lips, a yell that shook him. He didn't know that his eyes burst into a glowing yellow and all of the glass in the room instantly shattered, letting a flood of liquids and medicinal plants loose all over the small room. The stones in the walls and ceiling shook, clouding the air with dust and bits of stone. His head dropped to the floor once his voice was hoarse and all the air was gone from his lungs.

It was hardly seconds before the door flew open and several knights filed in, their minds left with confusion when they took in the mess of the room and the king, sobbing and on his knees, in the middle of it all. Arthur hardly looked up, but his eyes did rise for just a moment to look at Merlin.

Arthur didn't move, but none of the men in the room dared attempt to speak with the king, not once they realized why he was in pieces. It was another half hour before Gaius stumbled in, dropping his collection of herbs on the floor and stepping over them in order to get to Merlin. After checking him in much the same manner as Arthur had, he stumbled backwards into a nearby chair and put his face in his hands.

Throughout the rest of that day, many came and went to look at the body of Merlin, the most well-loved servant that Camelot had ever or would ever see. Arthur didn't move an inch. He didn't hear the words of sympathy, he didn't feel Gwen's arms around him, he didn't see the light slowly fading, shifting from steady sunlight to flickering candlelight.

Finally, hunger forced him to cease his vigil, although he was none too happy about it. Sitting with the boy, even in death, had given him some kind of peace.

The king slowly stood, stretching muscles that protested loudly, and knelt once more next to Merlin. He smoothed the boy's hair, wiped the wetness of many tears from his face, and patted him once on the shoulder before plodding from the room, in search of something to fill the emptiness inside him.

**AN: Thanks for reading! Hope you aren't too upset with me! Please review? That would be beautiful. Thanks again!**


	6. Chapter 5

The funeral wasn't held immediately after the sorcerer's death. Part of that was because Merlin's mother had been summoned, and they wanted to give the woman some time to say goodbye to her son before he was to be hidden from all human eyes forever. But that was really a very small reason.

Another part was the debate over what should be done with the boy's body. There were those who, upon learning of Merlin's magic through one way or another, demanded he be burned like all of his kind. There were those who asked that he simply be buried like all common folk, because he was just a servant. There were those that begged he be given the highest honors, because he had done more for the kingdom than any, had saved their king and the people countless times, and had suffered through it all with a secret biting at his heart. They all looked to their king to tell them what to do, but Arthur didn't want to answer.

The main reason Merlin's funeral wasn't taking place was Arthur couldn't let the boy go.

It wasn't that he thought Merlin would come back any second; he knew that once a person was dead, the only way to bring him back was by sacrificing another life. He would gladly give his, but he was too much a coward to abandon his kingdom. Besides that, it felt like an insult to give up his life after Merlin had sacrificed so much to save it. No, he knew that Merlin was dead, and there was nothing he could do to change that.

Every time Arthur went to see the boy, sleeping in Morgana's old chambers and dressed like a king, he felt so calm. Not happy, but not depressed. He just _was_, and the turmoil inside him didn't seem so difficult to bear. In fact, it seemed to almost fade completely. While he found himself unable to sleep in his own chambers, he was often found dozing quietly in his chair by Merlin. He hadn't bothered going back to his own bed at night, instead finishing whatever business he had and going to talk to Merlin until he fell asleep.

No one dared tell him he couldn't. No one expected him to attend his normal duties. In fact, there were very few people that felt able to attend their _own _duties, because Merlin was rather popular throughout the kingdom. Arthur had never realized how many other people loved the boy.

He had as long as he wanted with the body that was once Merlin. Gaius, upon seeing Arthur's dismay – and probably for his own selfish reasons as well – had revealed his own magic to Arthur and had cast a spell to keep the flesh from decaying. It was just a matter of proper rites that forced Arthur to finally confront the problem of how best to say a final goodbye.

"So Merlin, what should I do with you?" Arthur's tone was conversational, and he glanced up at the boy before continuing, a small smile on his face. "After all, I'm not sure I should bury you with the kings, because then I'll be stuck with you for eternity. I'm half tempted to burn you at the stake, just for the irony…" He paused and looked at Merlin before chuckling. "You're right, that'd be too dangerous, what with all your friends. Why didn't you tell me you were this popular?" Arthur watched Merlin's face and shook his head. "That's true. I wouldn't have believed you.

"But listen, Merlin, I really do need to make a decision. You can't just lay here in bed forever, and I can't just sit here and talk to you. I have responsibilities, remember.

"Come on, don't give me any of your lip. I don't have time. You have to be serious, here. This is a serious matter. You'll have to live… well, you'll have to deal with this decision for the rest of your… for forever."

Arthur leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, shaking his head. He sighed deeply. "This is not a joke, Merlin… Fine. You and I can be best friends forever. Just don't get mad at me if you get tired of sharing a tomb with me, because they certainly won't let you have your own. They are much too expensive for a lowly servant."

Arthur stood and dusted off his clothes, rubbing a sleeve across his face to wipe the tiredness from his eyes. "You know I don't mean it. I've gotten too nice to you recently, I know, but something had to change after you... I'll come find you later, when I've made arrangements."

Arthur left the room and instantly he felt the weight of what he had to do crash down upon his shoulders. He felt his steps get heavier, his body felt as if pressure was pushing against him from all sides, and he felt his eyes grow wet. Yes, even in death Merlin had the power to make life… simpler.

Arthur trudged to Gaius' rooms, avoiding the glances from those others in the castle. His father would be disappointed at his behavior, acting so broken over a servant. Then again, Uther would have been upset that his servant had turned into Arthur's best friend, and that said best friend had turned out to be a sorcerer. So he really couldn't take his father's opinion into account at a time like this.

"Arthur?" The king was relieved to see Sir Leon coming toward him, strange as it was. At least his presence meant something could get done. Arthur trusted Leon above any of the other knights, and they'd known each other the longest. They'd suffered through it all together. And now, when Arthur was grieving Merlin, Leon understood more than most.

"Sir Leon, how are you?"

"As well as can be expected. I was more concerned about you, however."

"Everyone is. And everyone already knows the answer. I've decided on arrangements for Merlin, and I'd like you to see that they are taken care of."

"Your highness?"

"Merlin's to take my spot in the Tomb of Kings, and I will pay to have another spot added for myself."

"Arthur, that's not-"

"That's my decision, Leon. I'm sure you aren't about to suggest he deserves any less?" Arthur's voice broke, but his eyes burned steady.

"No, Arthur. Not at all. I just wasn't sure it was the wisest decision, considering-"

"They will learn to deal with it. I'm working toward a kingdom that's fair and just to everyone, regardless of social what they were born into. Merlin deserves more than the best of us, so it's only fair to give him the best I can."

Leon bowed. "Your highness." He straightened and walked away, maybe a little faster than normal. Arthur wondered how long it would take for the rumor that he'd gone mad started to circulate.

He felt a little better after Leon had accepted his order, but it wasn't long before the weight was back and he wanted to go back to Merlin. How would he bury the boy if he could hardly stand ten minutes away? How would he rule a kingdom?

Gaius sat at the table, eating his lunch alone. The chair that Merlin usually took was empty, but there was an empty bowl and spoon at his place. Arthur hesitantly knocked on the open door and waited for Gaius to invite him in.

"Do you have a minute, Gaius?" He asked as he walked in, attempting to keep his gaze from the damage that had been done on the night that Merlin had… and he'd… Well, he just didn't want to think about it.

"Of course, your highness. What do you need?"

"I've decided on arrangements for Merlin. I wanted you to know about them."

"Thank you." Gaius didn't have anything more to say in response, but it took Arthur a moment to work up the courage to continue.

"I want to bury him with me."

Gaius was silent for a moment before shaking his head. "Arthur, I know it's been a difficult week for you, but your kingdom-"

"No, Gaius. I don't mean… just that, when I do die, I'll be laid with Merlin."

"Ah, I see. Yes, then, I believe Merlin would have wanted it that way."

"I'm glad you agree." Arthur turned to leave, but Gaius made a disapproving sound. "What is it?"

"It's just that I think we need to discuss what happened that night."

Arthur had been afraid this would come, but he'd hoped that Gaius would let it go, or at least push it off until Merlin was taken care of. He knew from the hard edge in the older man's voice that he wasn't about to let it go. So Arthur turned and stared at the floor.

"What would you like to know?" He asked quietly. Gaius stood and shut the door before pulling a chair out for the king. Neither one of them mentioned the empty seat at the table, instead finding one in the other room. Arthur sat in it and stared at his hands while Gaius seated himself again.

"What happened? I want to know everything."

So Arthur recounted the story, as closely as he could remember it. He started from the beginning, when Merlin rescued him. Then to the first time he'd felt the strange jolt at Merlin's bedside. When it came to Merlin's final words, Arthur almost broke down. He spoke the last sentence with hardly any breath and tears streaming down his face. It was too real in this room. It was too real and too hard.

"Interesting."

"What?" Arthur took the kerchief Gaius offered and wiped his face. "What's interesting?"

"I just hadn't realized… Hmmm. I need to do some studying, Arthur. I'll call upon you if I find anything of value."

"About what? Gaius, what are you talking about?"

"Like I said, I'll call upon you. For now… I'll be going through my books."

"Gaius, answer me. What are you looking up?"

"You wouldn't believe me, sire."

"Try me."

"I'm not sure you'd even want to know."

Arthur's eyes flashed and fire ignited in his palm. At first, he didn't seem to notice it; he held his hand by his side, letting the flames lick at his clothes without catching them. Gaius was wary, afraid of the power that Arthur obviously couldn't yet control, but before he could do anything Arthur noticed. Immediately his eyes widened, and as soon as he started to fear the flames began to eat away at the expensive red material that made up his tunic. It raced down his pantleg and began burning at the material and, before long, the skin beneath. Gaius was quick to dump a pitcher of water on the king's side, but not before a substantial burn had made its way from his hip down his thigh, stopping just above his knee. Arthur's face went pale, and Gaius was glad that the king was still sitting or he might have fallen.

Arthur didn't seemed to be in pain, but otherwise he didn't seem fazed by the wound he had just given himself. In fact, he seemed rather calm, in much the same way that he did when he was at Merlin's side. Gaius immediately knew why.

"Gaius, did I just set myself on fire?"

"It appears so, your majesty."

"And… how exactly did I do that?"

"It appears that Merlin's power was transferred to you."

"Ah. That clotpole. He didn't tell me."

"I apologize for the… clotpole, your highness. I believe he was doing what was best, or so he thought."

"I imagine so. Especially if he wanted me to be a human torch instead of a king." Arthur stood, but Gaius immediately pushed him back down into the chair.

"Please, sire, I need to dress the wound."

Arthur glanced at his leg and seemed a little surprised at the scorched flesh beneath the charred remnants of clothing. "Ah. Yes."

Gaius tended to Arthur's leg immediately, rubbing a freshly made salve into the burn while the king sat silently, staring straight ahead. The physician worried that the king was reliving the memories of his capture again, but Arthur didn't seem afraid. Indeed, he still seemed completely calm, and aside from the occasional flinch it seemed as though he was just contemplating war strategy on a normal day.

Finally, as Gaius was wrapping the wound with clean white bandages, Arthur said quietly, "So, when Merlin died… it was because he was giving me his power, wasn't it? He couldn't fight the… the whatever it was without his magic. That's why he handled it so much better than I did. He knew he would die…"

Gaius paused to make sure the king was finished speaking before he nodded. "I'm afraid that's how it seems."

"So if he hadn't given it to me…"

"He still would have died, Arthur. His magic merely prolonged the agony. I'm sure when he realized it was hopeless, he planned to stop fighting in favor of helping you."

"How often did he save my life, Gaius?"

Gaius shook his head. "He saved us all more times than I can count, sire."

"How often did he try to give his life for me?"

"It doesn't matter now."

Arthur nodded. "Will you help me learn?"

"I'm sorry?" Gaius asked, frowning in confusion.

"To use his magic. Will you help me learn how?"

"I will do my best, sire."

"Thank you." The king's words were to both Gaius and his best friend. He had been raised to hate magic, had learned all of the terrible things it could do and how many people it had killed. Merlin had taught him that all of those things existed in the world, but that they were always balanced by the lives saved and the good deeds done. And now Arthur was determined to use the power his friend had used, in order that he may take up the same mantle and continue to bring the balance that Merlin had always brought.

Camelot was in for a lot of changes, all because of a serving boy with an attitude problem and the most pure heart the kingdom had ever or would ever see.

**AN: So... I think that's the end of it. Yep. I'm toying with creating a sequel/continuation. If any of you guys want to read that, drop a message or review or something? That would be awesome. But anyway, thanks for reading! Hope you like it! Please review! All that good stuff!**


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